Literary Yard

Search for meaning

Year: 2015

Poem: back off

By: Linda M Crate how many times must i say no before you realize i’ll never say yes? how many times must i say i don’t like you before it clicks? leave me alone i have no interest in dead…

Story: Max

By: Clive Aaron Gill Martha steered her pickup truck down the steep road from Valley Center towards the Escondido High School bus yard. Dawn spread its pink-rose rays over morning clouds, softening the San Diego mountain peaks. She hunched her…

Poem: Micro

By: Tempest Brew  we are small beings in a small universe pretending to be large we are the voice of reason that is stifled because we are mute and do not realize it until much too late.

Wolf Country

By: William T. Hathaway JACKSON HOLE, Wyoming, USA — The wolves have been reprieved. A federal appeals court has overturned a lower court decision requiring that all transplanted wolves be removed from the Rocky Mountains. Unless the Supreme Court reverses…

Poem: Dance on Chance

By Pijush Kanti Deb Dance on chance- the great popular hymn to attack on and conquer a stage to rule on but to me- a chance appeared one night in my bedroom in disguise of a heaven-touching skyscraper but surprisingly…

Poem: The Game Of Stars

By: Pijush Kanti Deb The over ambitious steps may touch the honor of the moon and the raising head may feel the cool breeze of Heaven revealing the climax of the mad race between man and the God in extending…

Poem: The Most Beautiful Painting

By: Pijush Kanti Deb It’s only the God who painted the most beautiful painting portraying the sacred close-up of blissful husband and wife yet on it my father found a spot- black and traditional, hiding a pathetic story of a…

Poem: Beware the Webs

By: Scott Thomas Outlar The spiders come out at night, weaving their wicked webs of entangled deception, seeking to capture prey that has been blinded by the darkness. This is not a complex thought. There is not a fount of wisdom…

Poem: Bend but Don’t Break

By: Scott Thomas Outlar Worldly desires serve as an albatross around the soul’s neck, sending the entrapped flesh below the tide to drown in ocean’s depths; but sometimes a little bit of pressure on the lungs is nice, as it helps…

Poem: The Man in His Own Words

By: JD DeHart much has been/could be said and will continue to be said but what of his own impression a collection of memories brief experiences, the man who will forever be 33 now that he has turned Another year…